


Never Too Late

by Verocity



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Junhoe being dumber, M/M, Mingyu being dumb, the perils of being an adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verocity/pseuds/Verocity
Summary: Ten years after graduation, Junhoe and Mingyu run into each other in the most unexpected place.There's dinner, there's talking, there's things they realize they should have said.
Relationships: Goo Junhoe/Kim Mingyu
Kudos: 8





	Never Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> This... just got away from me.
> 
> Crack pairing, I know. Bear with me.

“Kim Mingyu?”

The man looks up from his dinner.

Junhoe grins brightly. “Well, how about that? I don’t see you for ten years and look at where we run into each other.”

The man - Mingyu - looks bemused. But Junhoe’s strong features give him a face that’s easy to remember; he waits for just moment and Mingyu’s eyes light up in recognition. “Holy shit. Junhoe? Gu Junhoe?”

“The one and only.”

Mingyu gets up from his seat and tugs Junhoe in for an enthusiastic hug. Junhoe forgot about that. That Mingyu’s a hugger. Memories of year-end camping trips come flooding back, when Mingyu made it a mission to go around and give everyone in their fledgeling student club a couple of seconds to remember him by before everyone went their ways.

Junhoe found it weird back then. But in a welcome way. He got a couple of hugs over the years before they graduated.

“Are you with anyone? Anyone I know?” Mingyu asks, pulling Junhoe back into the present. He’d already let go and Junhoe still isn’t finished processing.

“Nah,” Junhoe answers. He takes the seat across the table. Mingyu’s dinner is a plate of lamb chops, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables. Still mostly untouched. “Don’t mind if I join you?”

Mingyu doesn’t comment on how Junhoe’s already seated. “Can’t think of anything I’d mind less. Wait, you’re alone too?”

“This was supposed to be my grand adventure,” Junhoe explains with an ironic whisper. Like he’s letting Mingyu in on a secret. “A week to myself just enjoying Ireland.”

A crack of thunder interrupts him briefly. Mingyu grins as he absorbs the words.

“Gotta say,” Junhoe continues, chuckling, “I didn’t expect being stranded in a countryside inn because of a freak storm to be part of the experience.”

Mingyu raises his hand to call for a server. “Good thing you spotted me, then.” He winks at Junhoe. Here’s another thing Junhoe forgot: Mingyu’s self-confidence is intoxicating. “I’m sure it’s nothing that a little bit of Kim Mingyu can’t fix.”

Fourteen years ago has Junhoe in his first year of university. He’s a literature major with an interest in what he calls fulfillment narratives, and part of his self-imposed mission to promote it as a class of story-telling meant trying to find his own fulfillment somehow.

He wants to complement his life with something… different. And when he needs guidance, he knows he can always count on his favorite hyung.

“Social development,” Jinhwan says right away.

“Harsh. Came up with that quickly, huh? Sure you don’t need to give it some more thought?”

Jinhwan drives his point onward. It only takes a handful of words. “You spend too much time inside your own head. I think you’d grow a lot from being involved in community outreach.”

So Junhoe does exactly that.

The university has dozens of organizations catering to diverse student interests, from sports to networking to niche hobbies like paper crafting, and the only limit to one’s membership is their ability to manage their time.

It’s a skill Junhoe never mastered. Not consciously, anyway. He finds time for the things he likes. A short jog on Thursday afternoon, or an hour of Taekwon-do on Saturday morning… those are hobbies. Routines. Activities he draws energy from.

Club recruitment week arrives, Junhoe walks up to the first social development group he comes across, and signs up without asking any questions. He fills up the form, muddles through a preliminary interview and gets invited to the orientation that weekend.

Among the thirty or so freshmen being told about the group’s mission of bringing education to poverty-stricken areas, Junhoe noticed a tall, lanky boy sitting at the very front row joking quietly with his friend.

A boy Junhoe would later know as Kim Mingyu.

“What have you been up to?” Mingyu asks, breaking Junhoe’s dive into the past once more. “I don’t think I’ve heard from you since… what, graduation?”

Junhoe thinks carefully. “Probably a couple of weeks earlier than that, even. You were pretty busy with… Jungkook? If I remember his name right.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows rise at that. “Right. Jungkook… man, we haven’t hung out in forever. How is he?”

“Dude,” Junhoe says, laughing. “He’s _your_ best friend, not mine.”

Mingyu gives in with a sheepish rub of the back of his neck. “Fair. Not sure the ‘best’ part still applies. Or even the ‘friend’, I guess, we’ve barely been in contact. But.” Mingyu shrugs, and Junhoe sees the guilt in his shoulders. “You know how it is.”

That part Junhoe can relate to easily. “Kinda miss the easy socialization of being kids, huh?”

“So much!”

“I thought you and Jungkook were inseparable back then,” Junhoe comments. It doesn’t sound like a sore topic, the way Mingyu reacted to it. “You two were pretty close. Sad to hear that, man.”

Mingyu shrugs again, and there’s tiredness in him this time. “Sometimes that’s what happens when one moves to a different country.”

Junhoe raises his eyebrows.

Mingyu smiles. It’s soft and - Junhoe guesses - just a bit bitter. “So that’s what _I’ve_ been up to. Don’t let this conversation be all about me, Gu Junhoe.”

“That explains why you just vanished into thin air, I guess.”

“You were keeping tabs on me?”

“You asked what I’ve been up to, yeah?” Junhoe chuckles at Mingyu’s suspicious bemusement. “Nah, I’m kidding.” Junhoe looks away in thought. Blankly, out the window. “I haven’t been up to much. Work, mostly. And working out.” Mingyu nods. Junhoe feels Mingyu’s eyes linger on his shoulders. It sparks a tingle in his spine. “Why’d you move countries? _Where_ did you move countries?”

“Thailand. And as for why… I don’t know,” Mingyu says, thoughtfully. Wistfully. “I guess I thought it was a good idea at the time.”

The club’s educational outreaches to schools outside the city happened on a monthly schedule. Members spent two weeks preparing for a weekend’s worth of vocational classes and enrichment, a week assessing what they could do better, then a week planning the next modules.

Teaching has never been Junhoe’s forte. He doesn’t think he can even fake it successfully if — when — the time comes.

He really should learn to temper his recklessness.

“Looks like we’re working together.”

Junhoe looks up from his lesson proposal template. Offensively still empty despite Junhoe’s attempts to jot down something for the past twenty minutes. Kim Mingyu settles into the library desk beside Junhoe’s and smiles like they’ve known each other since first grade. Which they haven’t. Junhoe’s barely known Mingyu’s name for a month.“Hey.”

Mingyu peers over at Junhoe’s work. “And would you look at that? Our rate of progress is perfectly in sync,” he observes. He pulls his own empty template out of his bag. It earns him a laugh from a relieved Junhoe. “Putting so much pressure on us freshmen right away, huh?”

“It’s not like they’re gonna use these, right” Junhoe says, grinning. “I mean, it’s good that we get to practice making these proposals but I don’t know if the lack of pressure is working for me. Maybe my brain will work better if I know something’s at stake.”

Mingyu narrows his eyes. Junhoe notices the glint of danger. The hint of a challenge. “You want stakes?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Then let’s put stakes.” Mingyu offers his hand confidently. “Whoever gets a lower assessment score treats me out for barbecue.”

“You overconfident bastard,” Junhoe shoots back. He shakes Mingyu’s hand “You’re on.”

As it turns out, Mingyu’s right. It’s the first chance Junhoe learns that Kim Mingyu has a frightening amount of talent, but the year grows busy too quickly and they get assigned to different outreach units after that.

If either them remember the promise of congratulatory barbecue, neither one brings it up.

“What did you do after university?” Mingyu asks.

Junhoe’s own dinner is cabbage and bacon stew with some soda bread on the side. “Worked as an online tutor. Taught Korean online. Mostly to high school kids who got awarded scholarships. Some adults who were about to migrate for work or marriage. Got a couple of hallyu fans, they were fun to teach.”

“Must have been a comfy job.” Mingyu digs into his lamb chops.

“Calling it a ‘job’ is stretching it a bit,” Junhoe clarifies. “It was… a gig. Something to earn a bit of money while thinking about what I really wanted to do.”

Mingyu looks up at him. “Which is?”

Junhoe fights down the exasperation. “I just wanted to write full-time,” he admits. He’s sure his tone expresses how well that panned out. “Ended up working for an eLearning company instead a year after graduating. Didn’t teach anymore, though. I just made the modules that the actual teachers used for their classes. It was okay,” Junhoe follows up quickly, sensing what Mingyu was about to ask. “Paid the bills. And I managed to squeeze out some time for hobbies, so it’s not all bad.”

Mingyu nods like it’s not entirely unrelatable. “I remember you used to go off by yourself with a notebook and pen whenever the club went camping. And sometimes around campus, too, I think. Between classes.”

Junhoe’s surprised Mingyu remembers that much. He himself almost couldn’t until Mingyu brought it up.

“Maybe you’ll get to write full-time someday,” Mingyu consoles him.

“Maybe,” Junhoe agrees. There’s no conviction there. “Plans change.”

All in all, Junhoe doesn’t stand out from the crowd. He’s just another guy taking just another course working for just another diploma. And there’s comfort in that, Junhoe thinks. In the anonymity. There’s safety in being one among many. There’s no pressure in not being watched, and Junhoe prefers that the only one watching him is himself.

“Hey, Gu Junhoe!” 

Which makes hearing his name yelled out urgently in a busy school hallway between periods a completely novel experience.

Junhoe turns around and finds himself facing a breathless Kim Mingyu as if he’d sprinted to catch up to him. “Yeah?”

Mingyu raises a finger to let him catch his breath. “Just got this.” Even as he leans against the wall for support, Mingyu offers Junhoe a copy of the school magazine. Open to a page that Junhoe stared at giddily all morning. “Wanted to get your autograph.”

Junhoe raises an eyebrow at him.

“Might be worth something, someday!” Mingyu insists, but his smile is too bright to be serious. He fishes out a pen from his bag and forces it in Junhoe’s hand. “Come on, man, indulge your number one fan!”

“Number one because you’re the only one,” Junhoe chides. But indulge Mingyu, he does. “For now, anyway.” He thinks on the dedication for a moment. Something suitable for someone he’s barely even talked to.

“Thanks!” Mingyu reads it right away. “‘To the weird hallway stalker-‘ hey!”

The bell rings and now Junhoe really needs to run. He winks at Mingyu, exaggerated and contorted, with a finger heart for extra points before turning on his heel and rushing to his next class.

He blames his sprint for the fluttering in his chest.

“How about you? Apart from moving countries, good idea or not.”

Mingyu sighs wearily. He skewers a roasted carrot with his fork, pops it into his mouth, and chews as if he hadn’t eaten all day despite what remains of the rest of his dinner. “It really was just supposed to be an internship,” he says as if he’s reminding himself. “I saw a job posting about how a Korean beauty brand was expanding in Thailand and they were looking for fresh talent to help develop the market.”

“You majored in business management, I remember now.”

Mingyu nods. “Do you remember what I _really_ wanted to major in?”

Junhoe thinks back hard. “I… don’t think we were ever close enough for you to tell me that.”

“Huh.” Mingyu looks thoughtful. “Wait, you’re right. I guess I just assumed everybody knew. I wanted to go to culinary school, actually. But hell. Obviously that didn’t happen.”

Junhoe snorts. Obviously. “Parents?”

“Parents,” Mingyu affirms. “It was either be a doctor, a lawyer, or a businessman. So I went for the one with the shortest amount of schooling.”

“Wise choice. But hey, it got you an adventure out of the country, right?”

Mingyu raises his spoon and reaches over to try Junhoe’s stew. “I like how you spun it that way. Really, it was just… me applying for the spot and completely not expecting that I’d get it. I was ready to say no but my parents thought it was a good opportunity so they financed my move there. Then the internship ended and the company offered me a real job. The rest? History.”

Junhoe snorts in relief. “Amazing. I thought it was this grand escapade. Thank you for ruining the mystique.”

“You want to talk about ruined mystique?” Mingyu brings out his phone and shows Junhoe his camera roll. The first dozen or so pictures are just… fuzzy and white. And a suspiciously drenched Mingyu. “The reason why I’m here today was to see the Cliffs of Moher. As you can deduce from these shots, the weather decided that was _too_ much adventure for me.”

“So basically,” Junhoe picks up the thread of Mingyu’s thought, grinning, “you saw nothing - literally nothing - but fog.”

Mingyu laughs in ironic humor. What else is there to do with his misfortune? “It’s the most excited I have ever been to be in the middle of a cloud while being slapped in the face by Atlantic wind. Worth it? You tell me.”

Junhoe pulls his own phone out and flicks back through several days’ worth of pictures. “Your timing just sucked, honestly. I was there a couple of days ago. It wasn’t a clear day but at least I could actually see the cliffs.” He shows his selcas and videos to Mingyu. The majesty is unmistakeable.

Mingyu looks at them jealously.

“Just check them again before you leave,” Junhoe suggests. “The weather should fix up in a day or two.”

“Can’t.” There’s unnerving finality in Mingyu’s disappointment. “I’m flying back to Bangkok tomorrow afternoon. I’m at the end of my adventure.”

“… Ah, shit.”

Junhoe’s in the cafeteria cramming an essay for his sophomore literature class when he hears the chair to his right get pulled back.

“I’ll just pretend you’re not busy,” Jungkook says by way of greeting. “Can you sign this?” He slides something bright and colorful beside Junhoe’s laptop. Despite the four hundred or so words he still has to write, Junhoe’s intrigue gets the better of him. 

It’s a birthday card. For Mingyu. “Huh.”

“I’ve been making the rounds,” Jungkook explains, just a bit tiredly. “Why does Mingyu have so many friends? Honestly.”

“Where are the other signatures?” Junhoe asks, flipping the pristine card over.

Jungkook takes another card, more worn, out of his binder. “That’s the second one. Mingyu has so many admirers that the first one I bought is already full.” He shows said card to Junhoe, who whistles at how there’s barely any space for even just an initial. “I literally just bought this. Then I saw you pretending to be a good student.”

Junhoe takes his pen and claims the prime spot.

“Don’t take up too much space!” Jungkook scolds him.

“Fuck you, I’m worth more than just a cramped dedication,” Junhoe shoots back, cackling.

“I’m gonna have to buy another card,” Jungkook sulks.

It isn’t the wisest way to spend five minutes, but Junhoe figures making mistakes is just part of university life.

“What about you?” Mingyu asks. “How many days do you still have with your grand adventure?”

“Not much more than you,” Junhoe admits. “I fly out… what day is it? Thursday, right?” Mingyu nods, Junhoe counts the days on his fingers. “I fly out on Monday. Layover in Abu Dhabi for a few hours. Should be back in Seoul by early Wednesday morning.”

“Barring delays.”

“Don’t even say that,” Junhoe scolds him quickly. “No delays. God I hope there aren’t any delays.”

“Better get some lucky charms, then,” Mingyu teases. “And honestly? Where better to get them than here?”

Junhoe acknowledges Mingyu’s point. “I’ll add it to the list of souvenirs to get.”

“Thanks for the birthday card!”

Junhoe drops his bag off at the shelf and the club’s social room. Then he turns and spots Mingyu towering over the other members playing bridge at the long table. Across from him, Jungkook rolls his eyes and plays a four of clubs.

“Don’t mind him,” Mingyu says to Junhoe, elbowing Jungkook’s side hard.

“He took up so much space!” Jungkook exclaims “I had to buy a third card!” His vehemence sets Junhoe and Mingyu off laughing.

“When’s your birthday, though?” Mingyu continues. He plays a card Junhoe couldn’t see, but what matters is that Jungkook triumphantly gathers the round and adds it to their bridge.

Junhoe wonders if answering is worth the trouble. A look at Mingyu’s eager face decides the matter. “Last week, actually.”

The eagerness shifts quickly to dismay. “Oh shit, I didn’t greet you!”

“It’s no big deal, you didn’t know. I like my birthdays quiet anyway.” Junhoe flashes a peace sign at Mingyu, who looks like he wants to say something more.

Junhoe settles into the desk at the farthest corner of the room, pops his earphones in, and busies himself with his notebook.

“What brought you here to this side of the world, anyway?” Junhoe asks. “Looking for a different life move? Living in Asia getting too boring?”

Dinner is done. Junhoe thought that was it for their brief catch up when Mingyu raised his hand for a server. But Mingyu asked for drink recommendations instead of the bill so Junhoe supposes the evening isn’t over just yet.

He’s fine with that.

“Two reasons. Do you know how many Korean beauty brands I came across in Dublin?” Mingyu sips his wine.

It gives Junhoe time to pull an answer from thin air. “I don’t know… Five, I guess?”

“Zero.” Mingyu forms said number with his fingers. “There could be some in the city, sure, just not in the parts I’ve been to, who knows? But our brand? We don’t have a presence here outside of online retailers and a limited selection of face washes in some pharmacies.”

Junhoe isn’t much for wine. He swirls his whiskey in his glass. “So this is a business trip.”

“The business part is over, thankfully.” Mingyu taps a fingernail at the stem of his glass. “It was just some location studies. Data gathering. The real work will start when I get back. Gotta make a proposal for how to make our presence known here.”

“Sounds tough.”

Mingyu hums in agreement. “It’s a challenge. But a welcome one. My life has been pretty routine lately. So anything out of the ordinary? Very welcome right now.”

Junhoe waves an arm at where they are. “I don’t know your life but I’m guessing this is very out of the ordinary.” At least it’s stopped raining.

“You being here? Makes this extraordinary.” Mingyu shoots a highly exaggerated wink and finger heart at Junhoe.

It reminds Junhoe of that time Mingyu asked for his autograph in the hallway. He cringes at the recollection “Oh my god. Never do that again.”

Mingyu follows it up with the worst pout Junhoe has ever seen.

Junhoe buries his face in his hands. “Stop. Please. It makes me want to die.” He only surfaces when he hears Mingyu laughing.

“You hit then nail right on the head, though,” Mingyu continues after another sip. He’s going through his drink faster than Junhoe. “I’ve been feeling like it’s time for another change. Not sure about moving out of Asia, but. I don’t know. Something, I guess. Something to make each day feel exciting again.”

“Hey. It’s great you got to live somewhere else.” Junhoe tries to imagine what it must have been like. “I’ve been in Seoul all my life. Never thought I’d ever move out. Or I guess it just isn’t for me. I like the comfort of being home.”

“Comfort is starting to feel more and more important as we get older, doesn’t it?”

“So much.”

“Just one race after another of trying to be happy.”

“And the adventures that happen along the way.”

They lapse into thoughtful silence. Comfort. Security. How exciting that makes these grand adventures when they happen. And the subtle joy of waking up each day.

Junhoe remembers something Mingyu just said. “So what’s the second reason? Now that the business part is over?”

Mingyu looks up from his glass. He grins. “It’s my birthday.”

“Oh shit?” Junhoe shifts in his seat. “Hey, happy birthday! We should order a cake or something-“

Mingyu reaches across the table to stop Junhoe from calling for a server. “I’m good, I’m good. Getting slapped in the face by Atlantic wind is enough. Definitely much better than birthday punches.”

“I could still give you birthday punches,” Junhoe offers. “In case you miss them.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Aww. You sure?”

“So very sure.” Mingyu pauses. His forehead quirks in thought. “Wait. Actually. If it’s my birthday today-“ Junhoe, incredulous, follows Mingyu’s thought process right away “-that means your birthday was last week.”

“How the fuck do you actually know that?”

“I remember shit, Gu Junhoe!” Mingyu looks highly offended. Like Junhoe should have known that Mingyu knows when Junhoe’s birthday is. “Back in uni, in second year. You got me a birthday card.”

The words stir up the memory vividly. “Actually, Jungkook got you a birthday card. Unless you didn’t know? In which case, I totally got you a birthday card.”

“Yeah, no, I knew that part. But you signed a card of your own so it totally counts as you getting me a birthday card.”

Junhoe raises his almost empty glass in toast. “If you want to spin it that way, sure! Makes me look way better.”

“Not that you need to look any better,” Mingyu teases back. He raises his own glass. “Jungkook can get pretty shrewd when he wants to, huh? I framed that card and hung it up on my bedroom.”

Junhoe’s thoughts grind to a halt. He inspects the drink in his hand. He knows it’s not empty enough for him to jump to conclusions. “Sorry, wait. What do you mean by that?”

“What?”

“By… that. Jungkook being shrewd and…”

Mingyu’s expressions grows confused, then blank. Guarded. It unnerves Junhoe, especially with how Mingyu’s been so animated all evening. “I meant. With how he got my university crush to dedicate a birthday card to me.”

Junhoe puts his glass down. The ice cubes clink merrily.

Mingyu narrows his eyes. Not in judgment. He drains the last of his wine and leans an elbow against the table. “And here I was, thinking I was so obvious back then.”

“Maybe to other people. I was pretty dumb back then.”

“Just back then?”

Junhoe sticks his tongue out at him. “You know who else was a dumbass? Jungkook.”

“Hmm?”

Junhoe follows Mingyu’s example. The whiskey burns a line down his throat. He can blame the alcohol later on. “Yeah. You know why? He didn’t need to be so shrewd to get me to sign a birthday card for my university crush.”

Mingyu leans back against his seat.

Junhoe chuckles to himself. At the dawning surprise on Mingyu’s face. “And here I was, thinking I was so obvious back then,” he teases.

He wonders if they should order another round. The turn of conversation suggests maybe they’ve had enough for tonight.

“Time sure flies quickly, huh? Feels just like yesterday we were attending orientation.”

Junhoe keeps contemplating the campfire. A bag of chips enters his sights. He relents and acknowledges Mingyu, who’d occupied the vacant space on Junhoe’s log. “One last year of school, huh?”

“Ugh.” Mingyu’s loudness doesn’t usually translate to eloquence. “I’ll just focus on summer break first if that’s okay.”

“Congratulations on being voted as unit head, by the way! I’m sure you’ll lead your team well.”

Junhoe looks self-conscious. It happens so rarely. “Pretty sure I’ll do better if you were part of my team. Come on, we could use your talent with words. We’ve been too heavily focused on vocational skills, we need a touch of the humanities.”

Junhoe feels flattered. Mingyu’s just humoring him, he’s sure. “Thanks for the offer,” he says, and means it. “But I promised Rose I’ll be helping her with her theater workshops. And the school we’re working with has a bigger need for artistic support than yours.”

It’s a conversation they’ve had many times over the year. Mingyu’s unit is almost all business majors, which perfectly suits the needs of the community they’re assigned to. Junhoe would just be out of place with his literature.

No matter how much he wants any excuse to work with Mingyu.

“We’ve still got a year left,” Mingyu says. “In case you want to see what it’s like working with us. In case you want to flex your writing skills somewhere completely new.”

Junhoe considers it, as always. But he already has a place in Rose’s unit and they have grand plans for helping their school’s community gain recognition for their art programs. Hanbin’s careful networking has already scored them some scholarship foundations potentially giving the kids they’re working with the time of day.

So, as always, Junhoe pats Mingyu on the shoulder and says, “I’m sure you guys will do just fine without me.”

And as always, Mingyu pouts at Junhoe because nothing he’s said has ever worked.

Mingyu’s a hugger. Junhoe is reminded of this when they get back the next day, when Junhoe says he’s about to head home.

Junhoe is reminded of this when he thinks he wouldn’t mind if Mingyu offered him more hugs than just once a year.

“I should head up,” Mingyu says softly. Uncertainly. “To my room. It’s been a long day.”

Junhoe waves at a server for the bill. “I guess I should, too.”

“I’m glad we ran into each other. Good to see you after all these years.”

Junhoe doesn’t know what to say, and by the silence that follows it seems like neither does Mingyu.

But that’s a lie. Junhoe knows what he wants to say, he _knows_ he wants to invite Mingyu to his room, or at the very least ask Mingyu to stay longer at the table.

But it’s been a decade since they last saw each other. Enough time for them to have changed as people. The chances and opportunities when they were younger are so very different from the reality of who they are now as adults.

There’s no getting around the fact that they live so far from each other. That the lives they’ve built just maybe aren’t compatible. For whatever reason they can think of.

For comfort. And security. How they make you afraid of taking risks. How they make you so afraid of regret.

The server comes back. Mingyu reaches for his wallet but Junhoe motions for him that it’s okay, Junhoe’s got this, it’s his birthday treat for Mingyu.

And they linger in silence, for a while.

“It’s been great catching up,” Mingyu says, shortly after.

Junhoe nods. “It really has. Good to see you again.”

“Same.” Mingyu stays a moment more. Just long enough for Junhoe to yell at himself in his mind that there’s no harm in asking to… stay for one more glass at least. Just long enough for Mingyu to reach a decision. “I guess that’s goodnight, then.”

Just long enough for Junhoe to accept that… there’s still so much for him to grow as a person. “Yeah. Goodnight. Happy birthday.”

Mingyu smiles. Tightly, guardedly.

He gets on his feet and walks away, leaving Junhoe to stew and find peace with his himself.

There’s no sign of Mingyu at breakfast.

Junhoe checks out at noon and heads to the town center for a bus to Galway.

Their conversation over dinner bubbles up briefly in his mind. What else is there to do, he thinks, but to push it back down.

In the end, Junhoe thinks what he’ll remember most about his grand adventure is how unrelentingly _green_ Ireland is. Like there’s a dialed up saturation filter right before his eyes. No one at home would believe that his pictures are completely unedited.

It’s a strange thing to be fixated about, but. There it is.

The weekend passes in a blur of castles and old churches, of rich meat and incredible beer. It never feel long enough, and this one feels much shorter.

Monday comes and Junhoe’s back in Dublin for one last round of souvenirs. He buys a bookmark with a Celtic knot for himself and a set of postcards of Georgian doors for Jinhwan-hyung’s collection.

The faint feeling of mourning eating away at his chest, he tells himself, is because his grand adventure is over.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair,” Mingyu leads in, breaking Junhoe’s reverie, “how you’ve published something every year in the school magazine but the only one you signed for me was during our first year?”

Junhoe blinks blankly at him. Then he remembers, and then he gapes. “How the hell do you still remember that?”

“I don’t forget things about people,” sniffs Mingyu as if he was offended that Junhoe thought so little of him.

They’re alone in the club social. Almost everyone’s holed up in the library cramming for the looming finals season. There’s so much frantic energy all over campus that Junhoe’s creative energy keeps getting hacked by worries of his _own_ finals that he’s barely studied for.

He thought he caught a lucky break when he walked into the empty club social, but just as he got his momentum to write Mingyu walked in with the perceived injustices Junhoe inflicted on him.

“What I think is unfair,” Junhoe counters, “is how you keep making it on the Honors List despite having extracurriculars left and right, and yet I never once saw you studying.”

“I study at home,” Mingyu says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean I don’t do it.”

“Small mercies, I guess,” Junhoe mutters beneath his breath. “Why do you want my autograph anyway?”

“Hedging my bets. For when you become a big-shot writer someday. I’ll have proof that I knew you before it was cool.”

Junhoe rolls his eyes. He can get onboard with that dream. “Or just sell them, more like.”

Mingyu scoffs. “Something priceless like that? I would never.”

Junhoe catches himself before he buys into the dream too much. “It’ll never happen anyway.”

His tone must have been more pessimistic than he intended. Mingyu walks around the table to sit beside Junhoe on the bench. “Well. Even if it doesn’t, you’ve got a fan right here.”

“A deranged one, but I guess you’re better than nothing.”

“My motto right there! ‘Kim Mingyu: better than nothing’.”

“Oh, whatever.” Junhoe shoves Mingyu’s arm playfully. “You’re a lot better than nothing and you know it.”

Mingyu scrunches his nose at him, and Junhoe responds maturely by sticking his tongue out with a grimace.

Whatever playful teasing the moment could have grown into gets derailed when Jungkook storms in grousing about his thesis advisor. Mingyu shifts immediately into best friend mode, Junhoe retreats back into his notebook.

And that would have been their final interaction had Mingyu, weeks later, not sought Junhoe out during their graduation ceremony to give him his final annual hug.

“That was the guy, huh?” Jinhwan asks much later that night when they escape with some privacy from Junhoe’s parents.

Junhoe leans against Jinhwan and gives no answer. Jinhwan defends his title of being Junhoe’s favorite hyung by letting him indulge the melancholy.

Junhoe doesn’t think he’ll remember anything about the flights home. He doesn’t even know if he was awake during them at any point. There’s just something about being in a plane that makes him fall asleep. That, and the tiredness finally caught up to him after a week of nonstop novel experiences.

The first time in thirty-six hours he feels fully lucid again is when the immigration officer at Incheon airport hands him back his passport.

He doesn’t have much luggage. Just a knapsack of clothes and gifts that he retrieves from the carousel. The most substantial aspects of the trip are in his memories and in his notebook. The train ride home will be long enough to start unpacking his thoughts.

He doesn’t expect anything past customs than to just get lost in the crowd.

Certainly not his name on a huge cardboard sign being waved above the crowd. Easy enough to spot because the person waving it is taller than everyone else.

“Hey, Gu Junhoe!” calls Kim Mingyu loudly, waving his sign with more energy.

Junhoe is too shocked to react.

Mingyu lowers the board and struts closer. There’s a satisfied grin on his face. Junhoe thinks it looks good on him. “One race after another of trying to be happy, right?”

Finally, Junhoe manages to smile. “I guess you decided it’s time for another life move.”

“Not out of Asia, it appears,” Mingyu says with a shrug. “But back home. Figured it’s time to take another risk. One that’s worth it. Sorry I was dumb during dinner. I wanted to ask you to join me in my room, but. I dunno. I dumbed out.”

Junhoe laughs. There’s nothing else to do. Not in present company, anyway. “Oh believe me, you weren’t the only one being dumb.” He reaches for Mingyu’s hand. “I’m glad you pulled yourself together. We can’t both be dumb at the same time.”

“God, can you imagine?” Mingyu’s close enough to kiss.

“I think a decade ago we already had four years of being dumb,” Junhoe reminds him. “That’s enough for me.” Mingyu reaches for Junhoe’s bag. Junhoe relents and Mingyu slings it over his shoulder confidently. “In case you can’t tell, I’m completely out of my comfort zone here.”

“Oh yeah, me too” Mingyu assures him. “How about we start with that barbecue you owe me from freshman year?”

Junhoe gapes at him. “What the fuck- How sharp is your damn memory?”

Another thing to remember: Mingyu is a hugger. Mingyu reminds him there and then.

Junhoe thinks he’ll never forget this time.


End file.
